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By Roger S. Glass
Across the dark, smokey room on a
small, cramped stage, a combo is making
good music—that spontaneous and col-lectively
improvisational music often
termed jazz. With closer inspection you
are particularly impressed by the mu-sical
bottom, played by a bearded, me-dium
height bassist with the most non-chalant
facial expression.
You are told that the man's name is
Marshall Hawkins and that what you are
hearing is just a small fragment of Mar- ~~
shall's ability and musical knowledge.
This statement encourages you, with your
unquenchable thirst for musical aware-ness
to find out more about this bassist
Hawkins. What you discover is that Mar-shall
has sung in church, traversed the
country with Miles Davis, performed as
part of Roberta Flack's group and sat
in as principle bassist for the Columbia
Union College Orchestra. Yet above and
beyond these activities you get the feel-ing
that the bassist is a full time warrior,
and his battlefield is the survival of the
music and its musicians.
A native Washingtonian and a graduate
of Anacostia High, Marshall Hawkins
has witnessed the changes that this city
and its music has gone through, and re-cognizes
that the growth of the music he
loves will take time and energy. How-ever,
he sees light at the end of the tun-nel.
"I can tell by the reactions of the mu-sicians
that the music (jazz) is growing,"
he offers. "They're becoming more ser-ious
about what they're doing. The
people are letting us know; the people
who are actually coming out to the
clubs are letting us know. No doubt it's
growing."
Like most sincere musicians, Haw-kins
is doing his share to promote the
growth, a function that he doesn't take
lightly. "I'm trying to compile all the
history about the music and the masters
. . . Duke, Trane, Charlie Parker, etc."
His plans are to document the history
of the music through his compositions,
and share that knowledge with the chil-dren.
Something Marshall calls "an in-vestment
in the future."
"I'm writing for the kids," he de-clares,
"I write about people, circum-stances
and nature, something tangible
for the kids. My thing is education."
The talented musician is determined to
bridge the musical gap between his el-ders
and the children.
"I've hooked up with the elders, and
as far as getting first hand knowledge, as
qpfcoRD times
MARSHALL HAWKINS
far as history is concerned, I get it in the
raw. I've always been with the elders,
they know. They told me what they
want me to do, they didn't say it, but
they showed me with love and support.
That's why I can't leave this city. I've
got to support the elders."
The musical history that Marshall is
so anxious to share started in the church
for him—a Baptist church—where he re-ceived
his first musical experience as a
vocalist in the church choir and later as
a drummer and organist. It wasn't until
he was 24 that Marshall picked up the
bass, and ever since then his love for
the instrument has increased in leaps a
and bounds.
"The string bass got me started right
because it gave me a chance to fall in
love with an instrument. I was always
in love with the music but I couldn't
say I was in love with an instrument un-til
I fell in love with the bass," he con-fesses.
A quiet, unpretentious man, Marshall
sees his selection of the bass as a natural
NILSLOFGREN
By Howard Wuelfing
On the eve of his upcoming nationwide tour, Nils Lofgren returned
to his home turf August 16th, to preview his new band treating a small
but devoted crowd of followers at Lisner Auditorium to a loose but
entertaining show.
The opening act, White Lightening
warmed the audience up with a competent
but overloud session of heavy metal soul-reminiscent
at times of Hendrix's "sky
church music." They weren't exactly
'75's answer to The Experience, but
they did show a good deal of spunk,
funk and talent. Their material was
taken largely from their debut album
for Island, and included an ultra-heavy bit
of riffery called "Return to the Other
Side,"- and their single, "Wild in the
Street."
Then, after the usual delays in setting
up equipment, pouring fresh drinks, and
putting up fresh towels, the lights were
doused and Lofgren led his new band on
stage. Opening with some fleet but taste-ful
electric picking, Nils quickly kicked
over into hyperdrive as the band joined
in for "Back It Up Baby" from his solo
album. Disposing of the lyrics rather
quickly he broke into an extended solo,
filling the auditorium with the clear
phenomenon. "If you have music apti-tude
it's much easier to get into the bass,"
he states "you can represent your feel-ings
much easier and faster on the bass."
"It takes mental and physical strength
to play the bass," declares Marshall, a
broad-shoulder, solidly built individual.
"The bass calls for an incredible amount
of strength in your arms and forearms.
It also calls for a great deal of concentra-tion
and proper breathing. You have to
breathe right to play the bass or it will
wear you out."
Frank Maxwell is the man who Mar-shall
credits with teaching him how to
play the bass. "He actually taught me
how to play the bass note for note,"
states the artist.
It didn't take Marshall long to exhi-bit
what he had learned. "I was playing
at Frank's Cafe at Ninth and Florida
Ave. when Shirley Home heard me and
took me on the road with her," he
states. "I had only been playing the
bass for six months."
Although he is usually seen plucking
an upright bass, Marshall does play and
has recorded with the electric bass, and
feels no animosity whatsoever toward the
increasing popularity of the electric
bass ... in fact just the opposite is true.
"I think the electric bass more than any-thing
has done wonders for the country
(upright) bass. People are more aware
of the bass fiddle now," claims Marshall.
Along with his numerous jazz gigs
Marshall has also performed as the prin-cipal
bassist with the Columbia Union
College Orchestra, an activity he terms
"quite an experience," and something
he would like to do more of.
While Marshall has and continues to
profess his love for his instrument he finds
his real joy in the writing of the music.
"I feel that I am more of a writer than
a performer," he declares, "it's alright
to perform, but writing that's the crea-tion
of music, that's when it's in its raw-est
form, whatever happens after that
loses its rawness in terms of what was
intended. There's music written where
the composer would like to express him-self.
That kind of music often locks the
musician to the musical structure, so
that you can express the music form
as is. Then you have another way where
the composer writes music for the sake
of the music itself. That was Duke
(Ellington)'."
When Hawkins, the writer-composer-performer,
talks about the role of the
musician in this society he is at once
open and closed. A somewhat mystical
man, Marshall guards those treasured
opinions and philosophies that might
prove hazardous to his progress. He is
fully aware of the consequences of being
misunderstood.
"Musicians are a separate race of
people," he says, "musicians are in a
position to see things an average per-son
cannot see. They get a chance to
peep shit they can't do nothing about.
It's something that can really get to
them, knowing that they can't do no-thing
about it, and a lot of them in the
past have turned to drugs and other
crutches just because of that."
Conditions like these have been
the impetus for some of our present
music and the attitudes toward that
music. "Musicians can draw from ad-verse
circumstances," claims Marshall,
"the music is indicative of what we've
been through. That's what the music is
all about, it's our vehicle for survival."
While the music and mu-sicians
have always been at the front of
social changes their awareness has yet
to be fully accepted by this country as
a whole. According to Marshall, "this
society is so far behind the music, a
musician in this country is ahead. Yet
over in Japan, Europe, Asia and other
countries they understand the music,
they can hear and relate to the suffer-mg.
If there is any one musician who
aroused Marshall's interest in the bass it
was the late-great bassist Paul Chambers.
"Paul Chambers really turned me on to
the bass," he declares, "I was about 18
or 19 when I first heard him ;at the Vil-lage
Vanguard in New York with Miles."
Ultimately it was the same bassist
who got him the gig with Miles Davis, an
experience which Marshall unabashedly
points to as a fundamental portion of his
musical education.
"Being with Miles was like a univer-sity
for me," he states. "That was a
doctorate justbeing with that man for
a year. I played with Miles around
1968,1 replaced Ron Carter in a group
that already included Wayne Shorter,
Herbie Hancock and Tony Williams. It
was beautiful. With Miles it was total
self-expression."
"After being with Miles there was a
total change in my attitude toward music.
I had taken in so much I had to relax
after that, so I did for five years."
After his stint with Miles and Co.,
MARSHALL to 11
ringing tones of his Stratocaster, with
the band in hot pursuit. As the song
proceeded he began to vary his playing,
shifting mood quite deftly as the band
matched his temper expertly—giving
the piece a nice flow of dynamics and
textures. "Keith Don't Go," was
similarly executed, featuring another long
bout of soloing, broken up though with an
interesting bit of dialoguing between
Nils and drummer Mike Zak.
Abandoning his guitar, Lofgren next
began working up a rich quiet feeling
with sensitive piano work on Goffin/
King's "Going Back," another piece
from the solo album. Then it was back
to guitar for a few vintage Grin tunes
and more of his solo material.
As the show progressed, the perfor-mances
tightened considerably. Up soloes
were shortened or dropped all together-leaving
the undeniable quality of Lof-gren's
writing to speak for itself, most
notably in "Can't Buy a Break." Here
Nils' unique compositional abilities were
most powerfully evident as he spun out
his deft weaving of varied melody and
tempo.
The highlight of the evening though
was a piercing version of "Rock 'n Roll
Crook," which closed the show, bringing
the audience to its feet en masse.
A great show, but in the final analy-sis,
not appreciably different from what
he might have achieved with Grin on a
good night. After the show I discussed
the changes Lofgren had been through
with his brother Tom, an alumnus of
Grin who now plays rhythm guitar and
piano in this band.
HW: First of all, can you tell me ex-actly
what happened with Grin?
TL: Well, we sort of got in a rut, finan-cially
as well as musically. It just got to
the point where we were just going
through the motions and not getting off
on it like we used to. So we decided to
call it quits for a while and try some-thing
different. You know—to try and
freshen things up again.
HW: But you really haven't changed
that much basically—you just got a new
drummer and bassist.
TL: True, but the approach with
what we're doing now is different. With
Grin we were playing concerts and open-ing
for J. Geils or Black Oak and that
type of band. So we were trying to com-pete
on a level that we couldn't put
across as well as the other groups. With
this we're thinking less of knocking them
over the head and more of just playing
music. You know, no more flips and or
stuff like that. Of course, we still play
rock 'n roll—a little bit, lighter, a little
NILS to 12

By Roger S. Glass
Across the dark, smokey room on a
small, cramped stage, a combo is making
good music—that spontaneous and col-lectively
improvisational music often
termed jazz. With closer inspection you
are particularly impressed by the mu-sical
bottom, played by a bearded, me-dium
height bassist with the most non-chalant
facial expression.
You are told that the man's name is
Marshall Hawkins and that what you are
hearing is just a small fragment of Mar- ~~
shall's ability and musical knowledge.
This statement encourages you, with your
unquenchable thirst for musical aware-ness
to find out more about this bassist
Hawkins. What you discover is that Mar-shall
has sung in church, traversed the
country with Miles Davis, performed as
part of Roberta Flack's group and sat
in as principle bassist for the Columbia
Union College Orchestra. Yet above and
beyond these activities you get the feel-ing
that the bassist is a full time warrior,
and his battlefield is the survival of the
music and its musicians.
A native Washingtonian and a graduate
of Anacostia High, Marshall Hawkins
has witnessed the changes that this city
and its music has gone through, and re-cognizes
that the growth of the music he
loves will take time and energy. How-ever,
he sees light at the end of the tun-nel.
"I can tell by the reactions of the mu-sicians
that the music (jazz) is growing,"
he offers. "They're becoming more ser-ious
about what they're doing. The
people are letting us know; the people
who are actually coming out to the
clubs are letting us know. No doubt it's
growing."
Like most sincere musicians, Haw-kins
is doing his share to promote the
growth, a function that he doesn't take
lightly. "I'm trying to compile all the
history about the music and the masters
. . . Duke, Trane, Charlie Parker, etc."
His plans are to document the history
of the music through his compositions,
and share that knowledge with the chil-dren.
Something Marshall calls "an in-vestment
in the future."
"I'm writing for the kids," he de-clares,
"I write about people, circum-stances
and nature, something tangible
for the kids. My thing is education."
The talented musician is determined to
bridge the musical gap between his el-ders
and the children.
"I've hooked up with the elders, and
as far as getting first hand knowledge, as
qpfcoRD times
MARSHALL HAWKINS
far as history is concerned, I get it in the
raw. I've always been with the elders,
they know. They told me what they
want me to do, they didn't say it, but
they showed me with love and support.
That's why I can't leave this city. I've
got to support the elders."
The musical history that Marshall is
so anxious to share started in the church
for him—a Baptist church—where he re-ceived
his first musical experience as a
vocalist in the church choir and later as
a drummer and organist. It wasn't until
he was 24 that Marshall picked up the
bass, and ever since then his love for
the instrument has increased in leaps a
and bounds.
"The string bass got me started right
because it gave me a chance to fall in
love with an instrument. I was always
in love with the music but I couldn't
say I was in love with an instrument un-til
I fell in love with the bass," he con-fesses.
A quiet, unpretentious man, Marshall
sees his selection of the bass as a natural
NILSLOFGREN
By Howard Wuelfing
On the eve of his upcoming nationwide tour, Nils Lofgren returned
to his home turf August 16th, to preview his new band treating a small
but devoted crowd of followers at Lisner Auditorium to a loose but
entertaining show.
The opening act, White Lightening
warmed the audience up with a competent
but overloud session of heavy metal soul-reminiscent
at times of Hendrix's "sky
church music." They weren't exactly
'75's answer to The Experience, but
they did show a good deal of spunk,
funk and talent. Their material was
taken largely from their debut album
for Island, and included an ultra-heavy bit
of riffery called "Return to the Other
Side,"- and their single, "Wild in the
Street."
Then, after the usual delays in setting
up equipment, pouring fresh drinks, and
putting up fresh towels, the lights were
doused and Lofgren led his new band on
stage. Opening with some fleet but taste-ful
electric picking, Nils quickly kicked
over into hyperdrive as the band joined
in for "Back It Up Baby" from his solo
album. Disposing of the lyrics rather
quickly he broke into an extended solo,
filling the auditorium with the clear
phenomenon. "If you have music apti-tude
it's much easier to get into the bass,"
he states "you can represent your feel-ings
much easier and faster on the bass."
"It takes mental and physical strength
to play the bass," declares Marshall, a
broad-shoulder, solidly built individual.
"The bass calls for an incredible amount
of strength in your arms and forearms.
It also calls for a great deal of concentra-tion
and proper breathing. You have to
breathe right to play the bass or it will
wear you out."
Frank Maxwell is the man who Mar-shall
credits with teaching him how to
play the bass. "He actually taught me
how to play the bass note for note,"
states the artist.
It didn't take Marshall long to exhi-bit
what he had learned. "I was playing
at Frank's Cafe at Ninth and Florida
Ave. when Shirley Home heard me and
took me on the road with her," he
states. "I had only been playing the
bass for six months."
Although he is usually seen plucking
an upright bass, Marshall does play and
has recorded with the electric bass, and
feels no animosity whatsoever toward the
increasing popularity of the electric
bass ... in fact just the opposite is true.
"I think the electric bass more than any-thing
has done wonders for the country
(upright) bass. People are more aware
of the bass fiddle now," claims Marshall.
Along with his numerous jazz gigs
Marshall has also performed as the prin-cipal
bassist with the Columbia Union
College Orchestra, an activity he terms
"quite an experience," and something
he would like to do more of.
While Marshall has and continues to
profess his love for his instrument he finds
his real joy in the writing of the music.
"I feel that I am more of a writer than
a performer," he declares, "it's alright
to perform, but writing that's the crea-tion
of music, that's when it's in its raw-est
form, whatever happens after that
loses its rawness in terms of what was
intended. There's music written where
the composer would like to express him-self.
That kind of music often locks the
musician to the musical structure, so
that you can express the music form
as is. Then you have another way where
the composer writes music for the sake
of the music itself. That was Duke
(Ellington)'."
When Hawkins, the writer-composer-performer,
talks about the role of the
musician in this society he is at once
open and closed. A somewhat mystical
man, Marshall guards those treasured
opinions and philosophies that might
prove hazardous to his progress. He is
fully aware of the consequences of being
misunderstood.
"Musicians are a separate race of
people," he says, "musicians are in a
position to see things an average per-son
cannot see. They get a chance to
peep shit they can't do nothing about.
It's something that can really get to
them, knowing that they can't do no-thing
about it, and a lot of them in the
past have turned to drugs and other
crutches just because of that."
Conditions like these have been
the impetus for some of our present
music and the attitudes toward that
music. "Musicians can draw from ad-verse
circumstances," claims Marshall,
"the music is indicative of what we've
been through. That's what the music is
all about, it's our vehicle for survival."
While the music and mu-sicians
have always been at the front of
social changes their awareness has yet
to be fully accepted by this country as
a whole. According to Marshall, "this
society is so far behind the music, a
musician in this country is ahead. Yet
over in Japan, Europe, Asia and other
countries they understand the music,
they can hear and relate to the suffer-mg.
If there is any one musician who
aroused Marshall's interest in the bass it
was the late-great bassist Paul Chambers.
"Paul Chambers really turned me on to
the bass," he declares, "I was about 18
or 19 when I first heard him ;at the Vil-lage
Vanguard in New York with Miles."
Ultimately it was the same bassist
who got him the gig with Miles Davis, an
experience which Marshall unabashedly
points to as a fundamental portion of his
musical education.
"Being with Miles was like a univer-sity
for me," he states. "That was a
doctorate justbeing with that man for
a year. I played with Miles around
1968,1 replaced Ron Carter in a group
that already included Wayne Shorter,
Herbie Hancock and Tony Williams. It
was beautiful. With Miles it was total
self-expression."
"After being with Miles there was a
total change in my attitude toward music.
I had taken in so much I had to relax
after that, so I did for five years."
After his stint with Miles and Co.,
MARSHALL to 11
ringing tones of his Stratocaster, with
the band in hot pursuit. As the song
proceeded he began to vary his playing,
shifting mood quite deftly as the band
matched his temper expertly—giving
the piece a nice flow of dynamics and
textures. "Keith Don't Go," was
similarly executed, featuring another long
bout of soloing, broken up though with an
interesting bit of dialoguing between
Nils and drummer Mike Zak.
Abandoning his guitar, Lofgren next
began working up a rich quiet feeling
with sensitive piano work on Goffin/
King's "Going Back," another piece
from the solo album. Then it was back
to guitar for a few vintage Grin tunes
and more of his solo material.
As the show progressed, the perfor-mances
tightened considerably. Up soloes
were shortened or dropped all together-leaving
the undeniable quality of Lof-gren's
writing to speak for itself, most
notably in "Can't Buy a Break." Here
Nils' unique compositional abilities were
most powerfully evident as he spun out
his deft weaving of varied melody and
tempo.
The highlight of the evening though
was a piercing version of "Rock 'n Roll
Crook," which closed the show, bringing
the audience to its feet en masse.
A great show, but in the final analy-sis,
not appreciably different from what
he might have achieved with Grin on a
good night. After the show I discussed
the changes Lofgren had been through
with his brother Tom, an alumnus of
Grin who now plays rhythm guitar and
piano in this band.
HW: First of all, can you tell me ex-actly
what happened with Grin?
TL: Well, we sort of got in a rut, finan-cially
as well as musically. It just got to
the point where we were just going
through the motions and not getting off
on it like we used to. So we decided to
call it quits for a while and try some-thing
different. You know—to try and
freshen things up again.
HW: But you really haven't changed
that much basically—you just got a new
drummer and bassist.
TL: True, but the approach with
what we're doing now is different. With
Grin we were playing concerts and open-ing
for J. Geils or Black Oak and that
type of band. So we were trying to com-pete
on a level that we couldn't put
across as well as the other groups. With
this we're thinking less of knocking them
over the head and more of just playing
music. You know, no more flips and or
stuff like that. Of course, we still play
rock 'n roll—a little bit, lighter, a little
NILS to 12